


Free me from Desolation

by SakuraMinamino



Series: Shadows of Blood [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Bloodlust, F/M, Friendship, Human Experimentation, Japanese High School, Jinchuuriki - Freeform, Loneliness, M/M, Ninja, Revenge, Romance, Shinobi, Solitary Confinement, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-13 07:16:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4512870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SakuraMinamino/pseuds/SakuraMinamino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spin off from Blood of the Immoral. Accepting his fate, Gaara hopes for nothing and wishes for nothing in his cell in Orochimaru's lab. That is until he meets Naruto and starts to hope for the outside world. One night Naruto manages to escape but not him. Several years later, Gaara is grown and watches over Naruto from afar as the blonde does not remember the events from their awful childhood. As Naruto gets dragged into a war he was not prepared for, Gaara works behind the scenes to show the full corruption of the Konoha shinobi. Highly recommend reading BOTI first as this fills in blanks in that story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: This is my Life

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, so this is the spin off. The full story to Blood of the Immortal is on fanfiction along with three chapters this story after. I add a chapter to each of the stories on AO3 whenever I post something on fanfiction, so AO3 is slowly catching up, but also allows time for comments and reviews in between updates instead of one big update.

_**13 years ago . . .** _

"In you go." A small red headed child tripped over his own feet when the large burly man behind him gave him a shove. It was no surprise that the man laughed when he fell face first, his cheek hitting the cold tile floor beneath him. The child scrambled onto his feet, but the door to his cage was already closed before he even had a chance to turn around.

Picking himself up from the floor, he crawled into the small bed. The cage was nicer than his last one. The previous one had been similar to a dungeon. Cold stone walls, solid metal bars, hard concrete floor, and a strong smell of mold. It had been damp, and he had slept on the floor with nothing but a thin blanket. This one was a huge improvement. There was a lot of light filtering in through the plastic walls, everything was clean, he had a bed, even if the mattress was flimsy, there was an actual toilet and sink within his cell, and he wasn't cold at night. He even had fresh clothes supplied every day.

This was the only life Gaara Sabaku had ever known. Four cell walls, pain and loneliness. Truthfully, he preferred the cold dingy cell to this nicer one. In the cell, he had been ignored. Once in a while he would see his father. He would come down the stairs, peer at him with hatred mutter a few words and leave. That was the extent of his pain. He hadn't even known his name at that time, but he didn't know what he was missing. Didn't know how other people lived. Even now, he was still pretty clueless about the outside world, but now he could see the guards eat food that wasn't mush, the nice clothes that they wore, and the easy friendship they had when talking to the other adults. Why were they on the other side doing as they pleased?

But what was worse than catching glimpses of interactions that set them apart from him was when he got to journey outside the cell. Outside the cell was a world of pain. He had wondered what was outside the cells he had been kept in his entire life; now that he knew the answer, he preferred the comfort of the four walls.

The small child curled into a ball, shivering as he waited for the pain to subside. Sometimes the pain would pass quickly, other times it would grow worse until he could no longer scream in agony. He hoped it was the first. His voice was still sore from the last time.

While he waited, he tried to focus on things he knew. Things he figured out while he was in this new place. He hadn't learned much in his previous home. He barely knew how to speak when he left. As the guard and the long black haired doctor spoke to him a lot more often than his father had, he got better at listening and understanding, but he still didn't speak much. He learned that his mother had called him Gaara and that he was four years old. He clutched to that small tidbit of information as the pain grew inside of him. It really was all he had. His name was Gaara. His name was Gaara. He was not just subject Ichibi. He continued that mantra even as the pain consumed him and had him screaming throughout the night.

* * *

Gaara sat across from a dark skinned girl with turquoise colored hair. Her gold eyes stared at him curiously, edging a bit closer to the young boy. "Hi. My name is Subject Nanabi."

Gaara's green eyes glanced at the mirror to his left. He knew there were other people behind it. He could hear them. The entire room was white, including the floor. There were two child sized chairs in the room along with a few toys. The toys didn't interest him much. He didn't know what to do with them or their purpose. He didn't even know what the objects were supposed to represent.

"Did you not hear me?" Gaara's attention was drawn back to the girl. She was slightly older than him by a few years. Just like the other subjects here, she was quiet and timid. "My name is Subject Nanabi." The young girl reached out.

Gaara's eyes widened and swatted the hand violently away, growling at her and baring his teeth. "Don't touch me!" He snapped.

The young girl withdrew he hand, frightened, and turned to the mirror obviously asking what they wanted her to do.

"That is enough." The voice came from what Gaara had been told was a speaker. "You may go back to your cell Subject Nanabi until Subject Sanbi is available for your recreational time." The girl looked relieved. They always did. For some reason, the adults here always forced him into a room with the other children here. He didn't understand why, but he didn't trust people. People were bad. People were mean. People were out to hurt you. They either left you alone or they wanted to cause you pain. He wanted none of that.

He watched the girl go and two guards came in to replace her and escort him back to his room. He was unfortunate that day. The guard chosen to send him back was one of the more brutal ones. Without warning the guard struck him with the butt of his gun. "Move faster you freak!" The child turned murderous eyes toward the guard. The whites of his eyes turned black and his irises gold. He growled, not even aware of the blood trailing down the back of his head. Without thinking, he lunged at the guard, his small hands gripping the blue uniform, pulling him forward with inhuman strength.

The guard panicked, aiming his tranquilizer gun at the child and only managed to get one shot off. The dart hit his shoulder, but it did nothing to stop the child. If anything it annoyed Gaara. With even more fury he sunk his teeth into the man's arm. The guard's cries of pain and panic fueled the beast residing in him even more. The child drank the blood that filled his mouth, drinking as if it were sweet nectar. He would not tolerate being hit, not today. He had to pay. They all had to pay for doing this to him. They had to die.

The guard raised his fist, striking the small red head furiously, trying to get him to let go. Gaara wasn't having any of that. His nails dug into the man's flesh, ripping him open like a present. What was so wrong with wanting blood? They took his all the time without his permission. It was only fair he took it from them. So what if the beast inside him preferred to drink it? Didn't they like to drink it too? Isn't that why they took so much from him?

Gaara didn't even realize more guards had come into the room. All of them with their tranquilizer guns pointing at him. He received a warning, but he did not hear it. He didn't care. The guard was screaming, asking for them to save him even as the child's nails slit open his stomach and the innards spilled out.

He was shot with three more darts as a result. The world spun and the fight quickly drained out of him. The next thing he knew the ground was towards his head. He couldn't move, but he could still hear.

"Get one of the rifles. We'll take care of him." Fear clutched at the child's chest. He struggled to stay awake and reclaim the anger and power he had held a moment ago.

"That is unnecessary. The child was just defending himself." A shiver went up Gaara's spine. He recognized that voice. It was one of the doctors who took twisted joy in poking and prodding him with those weird instruments. "The guard struck the child unnecessarily. He awoke the beast by doing so. As Subject Ichibi had been under the influence of one of my drugs still, he was more volatile than usual."

"You call this defense?" The guard waved his hand toward the dying guard on the floor, but no one moved to help him. "That was mauling! Only a monster would rip a man to shreds! He needs to be put down."

"I am your employer Yoshida, and you will escort this child to my lab, so I may collect some data from this incident." The doctor's cold yellow eyes turned to him. "It would be beneficial to reformulate those darts."

Gaara still couldn't move as he felt his hands get cuffed and was picked up. He wanted to scream no, wanted to beg not to be taken back to that the lab, but he was unable to. Unconsciousness claimed him as dreams of what was to come took over.

* * *

Gaara stared at the ceiling. He hadn't had that luxury over the past several days. After he was released from the lab he was put into the isolation room. There was no light, no sound, only four walls that he couldn't see and his own thoughts. He liked being alone, but not like that. The dark scared him now. He never wanted to go back.

He pulled his legs closer, resting his head on his knees. This was his life. He had accepted it. One day he would be a grown up and do the same thing right? That's how it all worked wasn't it? The adults did what they want, and kids were locked up. One day he'd be free from the pain. Trust no one, accept your place, and you'll make it out alive.

That was the plan anyway. It all went to hell the day when the door outside his cell and down the hall opened to reveal a bright blue eyed, blonde hair child.


	2. School Life

"Gaara! . . . . Gaara!"

A lazy green eye peered up to stare into bright blue ones from the comfort of his arms. It took a moment for his mind to clear enough of the fog to turn his dazed stare into a glare. "I was sleeping," he grumbled, his voice rough with a slight drawl from the fatigue, threatening to pull him back into unconsciousness. "You better have a good reason for waking me, Uzumaki."

The boy who had awakened him rolled his eyes, pulling up a chair not two feet away up to the desk, sitting in it backwards and resting his arms on its back. "It's half way through lunch, and you've been asleep since the bell rang." Ignoring the glare sent his way, he proceeded to unwrap his melon bread, already deciding he was eating his lunch at the red head's desk. "I don't know why Iruka-sensei doesn't throw things at you when you sleep in his class," he grumbled, taking a large bite.

Deciding it was in his best interest to sit up before the blond haired boy before him dropped crumbs in his hair, he pulled out his bento box. Before he managed to remove the cloth around it, another boy pulled up a chair from another desk, slamming his own bento down in front of him. "That's because even the teachers are weary of him." This boy had shaggy dark brown hair, contrast to Uzumaki's bright, spiky blonde.

"Inuzuka," Gaara greeted without even looking at him. "If you do not remove your lunch from my desk, you will regret it."

There was a rare silence from the boy before he quickly relocated his lunch to his lap. "This is why no one talks to you," the boy sneered.

The blonde laughed loudly and unrestrained, drawing speculative glances from their classmates. "Don't let him scare you, Kiba. He's just a big, old teddy bear." There was a mysterious glint in the blonde's eyes. "Give him a big hug and find out."

Kiba, who was in the middle of chewing , choked and coughed violently at the suggestion, using his arm to cover his mouth before food sprayed onto the subject in question. "Are you fucking crazy?! The last person who touched him, which was an accident by the way, found a chopstick through his hand!"

Naruto shrugged, throwing his arm around Gaara's shoulders and stealing a sausage. He laughed at Kiba's horrified expression.

The red head ignored the contact and continued eating. There was a bubble around their small group. People seemed to steer clear of him when they could, the nearing desks empty during the lunch hour. He was okay with this, preferring the solitude.

Of course when Naruto first approached him his first year during the entrance ceremony, he did not hesitate to let the young blonde into his life. Kiba had been an unfortunate side effect of doing so, but he was willing to put up with him in exchange for Naruto's friendship. He had long since gotten used to Kiba's presence since he was always with Naruto who was almost always with him.

He had not expected Naruto would approach him that day. He had stayed cold, distant, and intimidating as he always had, yet Naruto still came to him when he tried to keep away. Kiba was a bit wearier, warning Naruto that he should probably stay away due to the rumors about him. Obviously, Naruto ignored the warning and threw his arm around him like they had been friends forever, almost causing the brown haired man to go into a panic attack along with the people around him. Kiba made the mistake of touching him a week after that. The boy, while more comfortable in his presence after spending two years in the same class, would still not risk making contact with him in any way out of fear.

"Um, N-Naruto-kun. I-I'm supposed to collect your n-notebooks." The soft, timid, voice of the speaker, drew the eyes of the three teens. She was fair skinned with long black hair that reached her lower back. Her unusual lavender eyes, glanced at Gaara then looked down, avoiding his gaze. She could never brave up enough to ask Gaara for his notebook directly, asking Naruto to ask him indirectly. Gaara found her timid form annoying especially knowing what she was. If she wasn't holding the rest of the class's notebooks, she would no doubt be fidgeting with the sleeves of her navy blue blazer or worse with the end of her pleated, plaid skirt.

Naruto stood, leading her away from their small group, unconsciously trying to put her at ease. "About my notebook, Hinata-chan─" Naruto started, already about to go into his excuse about why he didn't have his homework again. Gaara rolled his eyes while Kiba snickered beside him.

"Forget it again, Naruto?" Ino, a beautiful pale blond with pale blue eyes, teased, leaning back in her seat, balancing her chair on its hind legs with ease without holding onto anything for additional support. Her long hair swayed behind her in its ponytail.

Another boy, Shikamaru, his hair pulled up in a short spiky ponytail, snorted, his hands behind his head and his feet propped up on the desk.

"If Naruto actually brought his homework, then the apocalypse would be sure to follow," Sakura, a girl with shoulder length, pink hair, snickered into her hand.

"Naruto-kun is just too busy spending all his energy on his youthful passions. His enthusiasm for life should be an example for us all!" A boy with unusually thick eyebrows and an outdated bowl cut spoke up, joining the conversation.

Gaara watched as the others drew to blonde. It had always been an ability of Naruto's. He attracted people to his presence. Attracted Gaara. His bright smile, his open personality. Despite being the school's delinquent, no one in their class hated him. They didn't find him to be the scum of society, didn't talk poorly of him, or look down on him. He was the same as Gaara, yet he came out so differently. It was an ability Gaara envied. The ability to get others to follow and admire him.

Frowning at the turn of his thoughts, Gaara turned his focus back to his food. He was wide awake now. He was hoping to get some sleep. Who knew when he would be able to sleep again.

Gaara retrieved his notebook from his bag, putting it on his desk for when Naruto remembered to ask him for it. Kiba made no move to do the same. Chances were he didn't have his homework either. It was amazing that both somehow managed to pass their first and second years. The tension around the brunette grew. Kiba never did like being alone with him for too long. Gaara was never going to tell him that while he didn't think of Kiba as a friend quite yet, he would no longer attack him either. He found a perverse pleasure in tormenting him. His fear was amusing.

Naruto plopped into his seat, sighing as he finished off his meager lunch of melon bread and strawberry milk. "Why doesn't anyone ever pester you about school?" he grumbled.

"The same reason the teachers don't bother him," Kiba replied as if it was obvious.

"Because I had a 486 on our finals last trimester," he corrected. "I believe both of you barely got over 200." He raised a nonexistent eyebrow as both males flushed before him. "A 213 and a 230."

"It's not like you were first or anything," Kiba muttered bitterly into his rice. "Shikamaru had a perfect score, and he sleeps through class."

Because Shikamaru was a closet genius. Not that he was the only one. His green eyes scanned the room of his fellow classmates. No, it wasn't because they were not smart.

"He's still ranked 12th. We didn't even make the top 50." Naruto defended automatically , a frown tugging at his lips. "Not like it really matters."

"No kidding. My sister keeps trying to sign me up for cram school," Kiba rolled his eyes. "I told her to shove it. Even if I somehow pass my entrance exams, my grades and records would send any college running the opposite direction."

Naruto leaned back contemplatively. "I'm not taking any exams."

Gaara snorted. "I'll attend your funeral."

"What Baa-chan doesn't know won't kill her," the blonde yawned, closing his eyes. "I think I'm going to skip class." His hand disappeared into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. "You guys going to join?"

Kiba shook his head. "If my sister finds out I skipped another class so soon, she'll skin me alive and feed me to the dogs."

Naruto smirked as did Gaara. They had met his sister before. She was quite intimidating and wasn't afraid to beat Kiba into submission. Tsunade was similar in that regard when it came to Naruto. "Gaara?"

He didn't answer, but he was already putting his bento away. Naruto smiled, picking up his trash as well. They both walked out just as the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period.

* * *

Naruto had smoked his cigarette, falling asleep soon afterwards under the warmth of the early autumn sun. Gaara had made himself comfortable sitting on top of the entrance to the rooftop, watching the blonde for a while. It was the beginning of the second trimester. It was hard to believe that come March, they would go their separate ways. He would go back to Suna were he belonged while Naruto would stay here. It made Gaara uncomfortable. He wasn't ready to leave him alone.

When the final bell rang, they both returned to the classroom to pick up their bags (and Kiba). Together they made their ways to the lockers. Most students had extracurriculars or were busy cleaning up the classrooms after school. Kiba managed to avoid both most days. Naruto would at least clean when it was his turn, and Gaara would stay after and wait for him. No one bothered to put Gaara on the duty roster. They weren't suicidal after all.

"Any one for the arcade?" Naruto asked, pulling out his street shoes from his locker.

"Yeah, I'm up for it. Let me get Akamaru. He's just out back," Kiba hurried to put his shoes on, almost tripping.

Naruto just stared. "You brought the puppy to school?"

"He has separation anxiety!" Kiba sounded defensive, his cheeks turning a light red. The blond just rolled his eyes.

"I can't. It's Friday." Gaara put on his shoes with a leisurely pace.

"Right. Doctor's appointment." Blue eyes softened with sympathy.

"I still think it's a psychology appointment," the other teen muttered to himself. Gaara decided to be gracious and not cause him harm for the comment. He wasn't completely wrong, neither was he completely right.

"Want to hang out at the new café for lunch after school tomorrow?" Naruto asked.

If it was anyone else, no one would have noticed the discreet nod and light blushing of Gaara's cheeks.

Naruto smirked, knowing the reason behind the uncharacteristic behavior. "See ya then."

"Stay out of trouble, Uzumaki." Gaara had to warn. Naruto had a tendency to find trouble.

The young delinquent looked exasperated as he said, "Call me Naruto already. We've known each other for two years already." Slowly, his expression turned into a mischievous one, "but I'm not making any promises."

Gaara watched his two classmates go, yelling loudly as they went. He felt a bit of longing to go with them. He would have rather gone with them then be forced to meet up with Baki. He supposed it was better than Kankuro . . . if barely.

He walked passed the other students, feeling them part around him as he walked to the exit. He felt their eyes on him, heard their whispers. It was hard to tune out. It was always hardest on Fridays, but it was the day he agreed on, and they wouldn't give him more.

He let his feet take him to his destination as his kept his mind carefully blank. He didn't want to actually hurt Baki . . . today at least. He walked to the Suna embassy, the place he normally called home while in Konoha. The guards, used to his appearance, didn't bother to search him or ask him for ID.

The lobby was like the lobby for any government building. The front had glass doors, the floor made of marble. The front had your typical metal detectors. Past that was the reception/ help desk, followed by three elevators to the left and a hall to the right.

Few were allowed to bypass the metal detectors. He was one of them. The guards bowed as he passed and the teen gave a nod of acknowledgment in return, making a straight line to the elevator. The receptionist caught sight of him and hurried from her desk, hoping to catch his attention before the doors closed. "Baki is already waiting for you downstairs, and your sister called and left a message."

"Forward it to my room," he replied gruffly as the doors closed. As it was a private elevator that was off limits to anyone but his kind, he knew no one would open the doors as he pulled off the panel to access another set of buttons. He pressed B12.

He felt the elevator jerk then start its descent. The panel was replaced, and Gaara had an opportunity to take off his school blazer and tie before the doors opened.

It was a locker room of sorts. It had lockers against the walls and there were benches in front of them, though few actually changed in the room. There was a small medical station in the corner and a door that lead to the bathroom next to it. On the other side was another door that lead to where he wanted to go.

Gaara opened his locker, hanging up his blazer and placing his bag on the top shelf. He pulled out another set of clothes and shoes and undressed, folding his school clothes and putting them away. He dressed just as quickly and efficiently. He was already late. He glanced in the mirror, taking in the red coat, black pants, and grey vest. He had to admit Temari had good tastes. His face on the other hand. . . he looked tired and hungry. There were permanent bags under his eyes, lines at the corners of his face, and he looked a bit pale. Yes, it was definitely a Friday.

He couldn't make Baki wait any longer. He closed his locker and walked into the room, feeling the heat of the room wash over him. His boots sunk into the sand and the bright lights above him made him squint before they could adjust. It felt just like home.

Baki was waiting for him. His tanned face showing his annoyance at have been kept waiting. The teen could care less. "You're late."

"I don't care." He stopped walking ten feet in front of the middle aged man. He felt the sand swirl around his feet as he watched Baki pull out a sharp, black metal object. "Let's get this over with."


	3. Routine

"Just shut up! Shut up!"

Gaara knew who that voice belonged to. The boy from before, his startling bright blonde hair and bright blue eyes, he talked to himself. A lot. He was different from the other children here. The people in the white coats paid extra attention to him, especially when he talked to himself.

"My daddy could kick your ass a bazillion times. . . Stop saying that!" Whatever he was hearing, it was drawing the boy close to tears. He cried a lot, usually at the dead of night when the lights were turned off. They were quiet sobs, but Gaara's sensitive hearing could pick them up every time. It wasn't unusual for the new ones to cry often. Gaara was one of the few who hadn't. What was unusual was that every morning, he pretended he was completely fine and attempted to engage in small talk with him.

Gaara never answered him. He just snarled and growled as he always did. Most of the children had stopped talking to him after he did it the first time. This idiot didn't give up and was unusually persistent. He found it irritating.

Today however, he just didn't want to hear him. Every little sound and movement made him jump. His insides were twisting unpleasantly, making him whimper. Every step brought him pain as he limped, and he felt the blood from his wounds stick his clothes to his skin. He wanted to curl up and never wake up again.

He turned the corner into their hallway, and the blonde's rant stopped. He could feel his gaze on him. He didn't want those eyes to look at him like that. They were strange. No one looked at him like that. He didn't know what to make of it.

The guard shoved him into his cell none too gently. He wasn't hit at least. They were still weary from the last time a guard had hit him.

He let himself fall to the ground anyway, curling up. He didn't move to the bed, just took in the cold tiles cooling his already heated skin.

"Hey, are you okay?" The boy from across the hall called out to him. His tone was subdued compared to his overly energetic self.

Gaara didn't answer back. He still couldn't speak well. He wasn't as intelligent as the others. Though he understood of majority of what was said, he only could only string together a few words at a time himself. The scientist had taken it upon himself to fix that, making him attend classes to improve his speech. Though he did know more than he let on, it wasn't much more. He preferred to stick to snarling and growling. It made the adults hesitate in touching him, and he didn't want them to touch him.

He heard the other boy shift in his cell, a rustle of clothing and the slight creaking of the bed. He assumed the boy was going to sleep. He was surprised when the boy spoke again.

"I'm gonna get ice cream when Daddy comes. Mommy died, but daddy said he'd take me for ice cream. Mommy likes ice cream. We're gonna take her some." He went silent for a moment. "I miss outside. Mostly the sky."

Words Gaara didn't understand, but he turned to look peek at the boy from his huddled state. The boy was sitting on his bed, but he was staring directly at Gaara. Suddenly, he smiled as if he knew, like he understood that Gaara had no idea what he meant. "Outside is the coolest. The sun's bight and the sky is so big! Like the ocean. Like the bluest you've ever seen. Sometimes I feel like I'll fall right in, but you can't cause it's up. It's really weird. And the grasses itchy, but it's funner to lay in it to look up otherwise your neck can hurt."

It was just ramblings from a four year old. Skipping from subject to subject as he did his best to try to explain the outside world, something that wasn't their cage. Gaara had no frame of reference. He had never been outside. The idea that there was something more intrigued him. How had this child seen it? How could he see it?

He found himself uncurling from his ball, trying to understand words he never heard before, trying to picture what he described. The child tried to talk about anything and everything, about playgrounds and cars and ice cream.

He fell asleep to the boys excessive talking about everything and nothing, like it was a bedtime story. He didn't understand, but it made him curious.

The next times after he came back injured and hurting, the boy launched into stories about his parents, about things they did, about what his room looked like. It wouldn't be until he was much older that he would realize that the boy had a way with words, that he was too good at describing things at his age, and that he got a bit poetic when describing things he really loved, like when he talked about the night sky and compared it to his favorite blanket waiting to tuck him in at night.

Combining the boy's excessive speech and his lessons, he was getting better at listening and understanding, and he found himself anticipating the long stories of an outside world and about kind people, adults, who took care and loved kids.

What was such a dream world like? How did one survive in such a world? A world without pain or fear sounded a lot like sleeping, something he craved but never able to really obtain. And he knew even then, he would never be able to reach it.

* * *

"Let's call it a day, Gaara," Baki winced in pain, slowly standing up.

"You're getting weak, Baki. Perhaps you should retire before I accidentally kill you." Gaara wasn't even out of breath. He was careful not to break any skin on his mentor's person. That didn't account for the large bruises the man no doubt sported underneath the grey vest he wore however.

"I didn't get weaker. You got stronger," he muttered under his breath, not bothering to add the word "again."

Gaara ignored his bitter tone and instead settled for taking off his vest. It was about that time. He was feeling hungry, weak, and very irritable. "Next week," he offered as way of parting. Baki only scowled as he walked out of the simulated desert area. He had been getting hungrier more often as of late. It was beginning to show. He only half meant to stab his classmate with his pencil last week, had not actually intended do it.

Only Naruto was concerned about his increasingly temperamental behavior. Of course, he was the only one to notice the change in general, but he never asked aloud, knowing that Gaara wouldn't answer. Instead, he did his best to invite him out to have fun or pronounced he was going to skip class to give him an opportunity to calm down. The gestures had been appreciated, and they had helped to a degree. It just wasn't enough.

Gaara faintly heard the plentitude of curses that escaped Baki as the older man took off his own vest, but he didn't stay to see how much damage he had caused. He did however have to fight down the smug feeling he felt.

The building had mostly emptied by the time he had returned to the lobby. If it were any other day, he would have returned to his room to wash off the sweat and dirt from his skin. Fridays, his routine changed. Instead he left, returning to the city streets at dusk, watching people hurrying home before night fell. He had about an hour left before his real prey showed up.

He wandered the streets heading to the more sketchy part of town where there was an abundant of love hotels, escort and hostess services, scam artists, and the morally questionable business men. As the last rays of light began to fade and the night took over, this area in town became more active. They didn't even question why a high schooler was in this part of town. Some would assume he was a delinquent looking for fun, others would assume he was selling himself. Tonight however it seemed it was leaning more towards the second conclusion as many much older women and men came up to proposition him. A death glare sent them away before any of them could molest him.

He supposed it was a good thing he didn't break those perverts' hands, but then again they did deserve it. He hated people like them, which was why he was in the area to begin with. There was less guilt.

Two hours passed, the sun had long since gone down, and the district was buzzing with activity before he found who he was looking for. In the corner of his eye, he spotted a man wearing dark slacks, and unbuttoned white shirt with a blazer over it. His chest was covered in various tattoos, signaling his involvement with the yakuza. Everyone seemed to get out of his way as he walked down the street, until one girl, who looked to still be in middle school, clutching her bag to her chest, walked into him.

Gaara kept his distance, watching the girl bow and apologize profusely. The man however, didn't seem too thrilled to take her apology, roughly grabbing her arm and pulling her into a nearby alley.

Gaara followed, noting how everyone nearby who saw the confrontation just looked away and pretended not to see. A growl rose in his throat at their actions. He was so used to seeing it, yet it still pissed him off. It was amazing how humans tended to lack humanity. How fake and hypocritical most of them were.

The man had dragged the girl towards the back end of the alley. With one hand over her mouth and his body weight pinning her to the dirty brick wall, his free hand was able to roam her small body, leering at her with unconcealed lust, ignoring the girl's tears and struggles.

Yes, he was the type Gaara liked best.

Pulling out a small vial from his pocket, he uncapped the top, watching impassively as the man ran his hand under the girl's shirt. Sand flowed from the small opening. It wasn't much, but he just needed enough to make a distraction. The sand condensed into the form of thin needle not even 6 centimeters long, floating in the air just beside his hand. His light green eyes scanned over the attacker.

The man was too busy molesting his victim that he hadn't even noticed Gaara's presence. Gaara took a step to the left, concealing himself in the shadows, eying his point of attack.

The small needle flew through the air, faster than the normal eye could follow, penetrating through the man's wrist. He cried out in pain, withdrawing his hand from the girl's mouth. He looked in shock at the small neat hole in his wrist.

The girl took the chance to shove him away, making him stumble back. He tried to grab her and realized that he couldn't move two fingers on his injured hand. Using his good hand, he grabbed a hand full of her short brown hair, pulling her back with a hard yank only to cry out again with a similar hole in his other wrist.

His grip loosened as he lost control of three more fingers. Combined with the girl elbowing him sharply in his solar plexus, he let go. She ran from the alley.

The yakuza member looked at his wrists confused, besides the initial pain that startled him more than anything, he didn't feel much pain. The wound barely bled because it was so small, yet he couldn't move fingers on each hand.

When he looked up, he saw the small needle floating in front of him. His eyes widened. Before he could scream, the needle pierced his throat, piercing his larynx and keeping his vocal cords from rubbing together.

He brought his hands to his throat, clawing at the wound in panic. He could still breathe, but it was painful and the increasing panic was making it worse.

Gaara emerged from the shadows, looking at the man, at the would be rapist, with indifference. When their eyes connected, the grown man found himself afraid of the much smaller teenager standing before him. He backed away, and the red head followed, his intense stare looking through him, judging him, yet still indifferent.

But the man knew. There was an aura of danger emitting off the kid. He stood, running in the same direction the girl had taken to escape, but a strong hand grabbed the back of his blazer and shoved him hard against the wall, disorienting him.

Gaara was shorter than him, his head barely coming up to his chin. He kicked the man's knee out, hearing it snap loudly from the force and made him kneel. The man's eyes blurred with tears and pain, unable to scream only to be shoved against the wall again.

Gaara kept used his weight to keep him there, his foot still keeping pressure on the abused leg, increasing the pain, but not enough to make him black out. He lowered his mouth to his ear, and whispered, "Karma's a bitch, isn't it?"

The man's terrified gaze made his blood run on fire, made him feel powerful and light headed. His teeth ached and his stomach twisted in anticipated. He could feel his frightened pulse through his skin. He loved the hunt, loved exerting his power.

His mouth lowered further to the man's neck, taking in the scent of fear and desperation. He felt the man try to struggle, but just a little pressure on his leg put an end to the effort. Without preamble, he sunk his teeth into his neck.

He felt the man tense under his finger tips. The blood entered his system, and he felt the week's irritation and stress melt away. He barely noticed the body underneath him slump, and he didn't care when the gangster stopped breathing. He kept drinking, guzzling it down. It had to last him another week. He had to make it last that long.

When he drained every last drop, he let the body fall. He had to hide the body. He picked up the body, and then paused in thought. It was clean. He shouldn't let good meat go to waste. He could incinerate the bones later.

Shifting the man's weight, he turned to head up the fire escape of the building. It was only luck that he saw the girl he had saved peering around the corner. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Few could sneak up on him, and all of them were at his school or the embassy. He had never seen this girl before.

The girl softly eeped and went out of sight. Gaara waited. When she didn't reappear, he continued up the metal stairs, checking back to make sure he wasn't being watched or followed. She didn't reappear. She must been one of the few humans born outside a clan. It was rare to see these days. He just hoped she went home. He wasn't a hero, and he didn't like saving damsels in distress.

His phone rang the moment he got onto the roof. He answered it with one hand already knowing who it was.

"Gaara! You've got to come over! Kiba managed to get into his sister's alcohol stash, and Jiraiya left his credit card here. We're going to buy some games and pizza with it." Naruto's voice came through the speaker loud and clear. Just by the sheer volume, the teen could already tell his friend has already had a few drinks.

"We have school tomorrow," Gaara replied, already knowing there was no point in arguing. He'd do whatever the boy asked of him.

"But its Saturday," he stressed. "It's only a half day. We can BS half a day."

Gaara decided not to respond and continued his journey across the roof.

"Soooo . . . is that a yes?"

Gaara fought a small smile. "I will be there in an hour."

"Great! See you then!" Naruto hung up.

Gaara slipped his phone back into his pocket. He better hurry before Inuzuka tried to convince Naruto that drunk dialing Tsunade was a good idea again.

* * *

He had been gone for days.

Gaara looked at the empty cell across from his own. He didn't know how long ago, but the boy across from him was taken by the guards and hadn't returned. Meanwhile, he had been left alone for days. It was unusual. He expected them to come for him. They always did. Never had they left him alone for so long.

It made him anxious and scared. He was supposed to be punished often. It had been too long. Where they going to kill him like they did with the others? Wouldn't that be the nicer fate? To just die and let it all be over? It was like going to sleep. He liked to sleep when he could. It was a time when he wasn't in pain. To sleep forever would be the best thing he could ever imagine. And yet . . .

He would miss out on the stories. The boy had promised he would tell him about different types of food and about cats, and what it is like to go to the beach. He didn't really know what any of that stuff was, but he wanted to hear about it. He wanted to hear the blonde's laughter. He wanted to hear the sobs at night. He wanted to know he wasn't the only one suffering. He wanted to see someone still fighting.

He curled up, hiding his face in his arms. He didn't want to hear silence again.

The door to the room opened. Gaara found himself scrambling across his cot to the other side of the cell, looking for him.

He found him.

Between the two guards walked the blonde boy. He had bags under his eyes, his shoulders were hunched, and his feet dragged, stumbling several times. His expression was one the young boy recognized. Hopelessness. Fear. His eyes were unfocused and dead. He was quiet and too compliant.

Gaara felt his heart sinking. They broke him. Just like the others. There wouldn't be any more laughter or stories.

They shoved the boy into his cell, and he didn't even protest like he usually did. He sat on the floor just looking straight ahead, his body shivering every now and then.

Gaara bit his lip and looked down. Maybe he could fix him. It was possible to fix broken things. He broke stuff all the time and they came back fixed. Maybe he could try.

So how do you fix a person?

He racked his young brain. He wanted him to talk, so something the boy was interested in probably, but he didn't know anything. He couldn't talk well either. He watched the boy. There was one thing the boy asked frequently. He had never answered because he never spoke back to him.

He practiced what he was going to say inside his head, repeating it over and over again. Finally, he felt ready. He opened his mouth then closed it. He was nervous. He never spoke before, but he wanted to fix him.

He opened his mouth again and said, "Subject Ichibi."

The blonde blinked and turned his head towards him. Confusion settled over his features and Gaara wondered if he said something wrong. At least it wasn't that blank look anymore.

The confusion eventually faded, and a small smile graced the child's small round face. "Not that name. I mean your real name, you dope. Mine is Uzumaki, Naruto."

His real name? No one had ever asked for it before. He felt himself blushing lightly. Hesitantly, he answered, "G-gaara."

The smile the small red head received for his answer warmed his heart. The light that was almost extinguished from the boy in front of him started to return, life seeping back into his eyes.

"That's so cool! When my dad comes back, maybe he'll let you come too."

Gaara smiled back, but didn't offer any more words. He felt pride in himself.

The child started talking to himself again, and Gaara knew that the conversation would pass, and the child would tell him more stories. For once in his life, he was looking forward to something besides the solitude of his cell.

**Author's Note:**

> The prologue is a bit rough, but the first chapter is a bit smoother (and longer). Promise.


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